


Masters of their Fates

by Annariel



Series: Season 2b [2]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternative Timeline, Female Protagonist, Gen, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-13
Updated: 2010-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen tries to escape from the alternative timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masters of their Fates

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to fredbassett for beta-reading.

"Can you confirm that the anomalies are being used by a terrorist group?"

"You navigated through the anomalies for nine years. Do you seriously expect us to believe you can not say when and where the next anomaly will open?"

"Can you tell us where you purchased your underwear?"

"Thank you, I think that's enough questions for this press conference." Jenny moved in calmly before Helen had to answer the underwear question. "I've given you all packs with a full background on Professor Cutter. I've included her key publication on the anomalous evolution problem from 1998 and," she shot the heavily made-up woman in the audience a hard glance, "a full breakdown of clothing outlets she uses. Thank you all for coming here today. As usual we'll let you know as soon as there are any further developments."

Helen obediently stalked out of the room in front of Jenny.

"How did you know they would ask about clothes?" she asked once they were safely away from prying microphones. She'd had, and embarrassingly lost, a fight with Jenny over clothes which had resulted in a trip down the high street with Helen nominating clothing items as `not completely impractical' so Jenny could put them on a list for the Press.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Do me a favour and take a good look at yourself in the mirror sometime. You've been a hot topic in Cosmopolitan since your Wanted poster first appeared. Believe it or not, you are currently the epitome of Survivor Chic."

"Survivor Chic?"

"Don't blame me. I didn't make up the term."

# Masters of their Fates

_Men at some time are masters of their fates: The_

_  
fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in_

_  
ourselves, that we are underlings_   


  
\- Shakespeare, Julius Caesar  


The anomaly detector was blaring again. Helen glanced at her watch. Tight on time. She hopped from the chair in her ever-so bland office and headed into the drum.

"Where is it?" she asked. There was a technician seated before the screens, a mousy girl from the Physics team. She'd been introduced to her at some point but couldn't remember her name. She looked around. Connor, Abby, her _team_, were conspicuous by their absence. Helen tutted quietly.

"Church, I think." The girl pointed to a pulsing signal not far from their location. She looked up at her. "I thought you were supposed to be starting that Oxford job today?"

That was what she loved about civilisation. All that time spent on trivial gossip and tittle-tattle. Helen shook her head. "Had to be delayed a week."

"Anomaly!" called Stephen from the upper walkway. At least someone else was around. Helen glanced up. Jenny was also in her office.

"Let's check it out before the soldier boys get there," she called up to him. "Bring Jenny too." She needed to talk to them both anyway and didn't think either would prove much of a threat.

* * *

Stephen and Helen entered the church carefully. Both of them were armed. The anomaly glittered behind the altar. A minute later, when Stephen gave the all clear, Jenny walked abruptly down the aisle, heels clicking on the stone flags.

"Nothing here," said Stephen.

"So I see," remarked Jenny.

Stephen slumped in the front pew and glared at the anomaly sulkily. Helen was disappointed in him. She would have expected him to have at least taken a peak through it. She caught his gaze. He pulled a face and then stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh come on, Stephen!" Helen couldn't help saying. "There are worse things than sitting in a church with me."

"None spring to mind," he said.

Helen looked across to Jenny and hoped her face said `help please!'. Helen had never been good at playing the `Women united against useless men' card but it might just work here.

Jenny sat elegantly behind Stephen. "I'll wait with you." She smiled at Helen, all artificial sweetness.

"Really?" he looked surprised.

Jenny looked across at Helen and the artificial smile dropped from her face. "No hidden microphones here, right?"

Helen was surprised. That was extremely astute of Jenny. In fact the woman was full of surprises. Helen had a nasty suspicion she had been underestimating her. She sat on a pew, across the aisle from Jenny and Stephen, and put her feet up on the bench in front.

"Unlikely," she agreed, nonchalantly.

"So," said Jenny, "what was it you wanted to talk to us about?"

Helen considered her thoughtfully. How dangerous, exactly, was Jenny? "The Press Conference," she started, "the one Stephen was at when Nick died. Who organised it?"

"Mick Harper, the Independent journalist," said Stephen.

"So the story was already out?" asked Helen.

Stephen glanced at her in slight surprise but carried on, "Yes. He'd published an exclusive that morning and followed it up with a Press Conference in the afternoon."

"Where did he get the evidence from?" asked Helen. "Did you steal files from the ARC?"

Stephen shook his head, "I gave him names and places where incidents had occurred and he got a lot of eye-witness accounts, but he also had leaked papers from government briefings and footage of some of the captured beasts."

"How did he get them?" asked Helen.

"I thought it was down to you," said Stephen. "You _said_ you were talking to a journalist so when he phoned me up I assumed you had sent him."

"Where would Helen get information like that from?" asked Jenny.

Stephen shrugged. Jenny looked across at Helen and Helen felt a jolt of sympathy for her. Nick and Stephen were both horribly focused. If it didn't involve bones, fossils, animals or walking a long way in wet boots and socks then their attention just slipped over it. Stephen simply wasn't interested in who had stitched him up. He probably hadn't even realised yet that he _had_ been stitched up.

"And why on Earth would Helen want the Press involved?" Jenny followed up.

"She said..." began Stephen but stopped when he encountered Jenny's hard gaze. Then he groaned and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "There was no journalist." He scowled at Helen.

Helen would have laughed had it not been for Jenny's impression of a schoolteacher faced with a particularly slow pupil. Just when she _really needed_ his compliance, Stephen was being schooled away from her. Jenny turned to her, an ever-so-slight hint of triumph playing about her mouth and a glint in her eye that warned Helen to keep away from Stephen in future. She was marking her territory and warning Helen to keep out. `You took Nick,' her attitude seemed to say. `I'm not letting you have this one.'

"OK," said Helen, "this journalist organises a Press conference. Meanwhile Leek pulls his little coup attempt. Connor's software trashes his systems and the animals get out. What happened next?"

"You were there," said Stephen accusingly.

"No she wasn't," said Jenny. "We wouldn't be having this conversation if she remembered all of that. Something's changed."

Helen narrowed her eyes. She was getting accustomed to Jenny's sharpness. But it was the confidence with which she spoke, betraying no doubt that Helen might be bluffing, that disturbed her now.

"So what happened next?" Helen asked her directly.

Jenny shrugged. "We don't know exactly. We found Leek and Nick's bodies, or what was left of them, in the complex. No sign of you at all. We think Nick barricaded himself in the containment area. The external control panel was damaged and wouldn't work. It could only be operated from inside."

Helen wondered if she had stayed to watch, just as Nick had stayed to watch Stephen's death, or whether she had had the sense to run. She dismissed the thought. Brooding wasn't her style. Taking action, _that_ was her style. The journalist was the key. Who had told him to contact Stephen?

"Then I get lynched as a whistleblower," said Stephen sulkily, breaking into her train of thought.

Jenny shook her head. "With your looks, general heroics and coupled with being positioned first and foremost at that Press conference, you should have been a national hero. You would have been if you'd hired a half-way decent publicist." Her tone was waspish and her mouth slammed shut in a thin line.

Helen watched fascinated. Lots of little signs in the past week showed that Connor and Abby had forgiven Stephen, but Jenny clearly hadn't, even though she was much better than they were at concealing her anger. Stephen had probably never worked out that she had held anything against him in the first place and Jenny was too focused on obstructing Helen to lash out at him. Helen always admired people with an appropriate sense of priorities, even when it was inconvenient for her plans.

"I didn't want a publicist."

"I know, but calling Max Clifford an ambulance-chasing stain on modern society, to his face, was not terribly bright."

Helen had read the Press stories covering Stephen's abortive attempts to run the team. It didn't surprise her that there was a personal element to the malicious spin on the reporting. Once she'd read them, she'd also realised how badly Lucia Wright had needed to contain that situation.

"Maybe, I should hire Max Clifford," she mused.

"Go through me," said Jenny.

Helen recognised an order when she heard one. She gazed thoughtfully at Jenny. Jenny clearly considered her more to blame than Stephen for Nick's death. Where Connor, Abby and Stephen restricted themselves to sulky and trivial obstructiveness, Jenny was all outward professionalism. Helen really, really hoped she wasn't planning anything.

She glanced down at her watch. It was almost time. If this went as planned, it didn't matter what Jenny was up to. Helen picked up her gun and rucksack and went to stand in front of the anomaly.

"What is it?" asked Stephen.

"Nothing, just stretching my legs."

She watched for the tell-tale signs that the anomaly was starting to close. The moment was near. She turned back to Jenny and Stephen.

"Thanks for the chat," she said. "I'll see what I can do to fix things."

And then she jumped through the fractured light. There was the faintest of whooshing noises as the anomaly closed behind her.

She pursed her lips at the sight that met her eyes: the numerous anomalies she had expected, the three guns that were pointing at her, she had not. Beyond the soldiers she could see Abby and Connor. Abby smirked. Connor shrugged apologetically.

Captain Lyle sighed. "Trust you not to make your move until the last moment. Looks like we'll be taking the long route back."

Helen raised her eyebrows.

"We have to go through the Permian to the Forest of Dean," said Abby, by way of explanation, tugging a rucksack onto her back. "Thanks to you," she tacked onto the end.

"I wasn't expecting a reception committee to be waiting or I'd have come sooner."

"That would have saved us a load of trouble," said Lyle.

Helen surveyed the three soldiers. Captain Lyle she now recalled from her previous run-ins with Lester's security forces. She also recognised the woman, a Private Lacey, if memory served. The third man was a surprise. He had been one of Leek's men, Lieutenant William Slater. She had thought him lost to the rather unpleasant sand scorpions in the Silurian, yet here he was, alive and well.

Lyle had fished a small handheld computer from his pocket and was consulting it.

"Through this one," he gestured to a nearby anomaly.

"You have the anomalies mapped now?" Helen mentally kicked herself. There was too much surprise in her tone.

"Thanks to you," he said.

Helen's face must have betrayed her even further.

"It wasn't that difficult to break the code in your notebooks," said Connor apologetically, "not given what we already knew about the anomalies. It was mostly a case of identifying the ones we knew and then extrapolating from those."

Oh, that had been foolish of her. She should have realised that Lucia and the ARC had held onto her possessions easily long enough to search through them and copy anything of interest. She struggled to maintain her composure. She had got out of much worse situations than this. She was wrong-footed, but not badly. It was just a matter of working out where the weak link was in this little bunch and then exploiting it.

"Lucia Wright sent us," Connor continued. "We were waiting in the church for the anomaly to open hours ago and then we had to sit around here in case you came through."

Which, of course, explained the mysterious absense of Connor and Abby when the anomaly alarm went off.

"Looks like Miss Wright has you pegged sure enough," said Lyle. There was a grim note of satisfaction in his tone.

* * *

This particular area of the Permian was familiar to Helen. In her imagination her footsteps criss-crossed the sands heading backwards and forwards between the many anomalies that opened and shut onto the area. She half-expected to see herself on the horizon. It wouldn't be the first time. Once, she'd even waved.

Lyle set a fast pace. It was a leisurely two day stroll to the anomaly that opened into the Forest of Dean. They'd never make it before nightfall but presumably Lyle wanted time in hand the following day. Lacey took her backpack and they handcuffed her wrists in front of her, making the walk difficult. The soldiers walked in grim silence but Connor chatted away, overwhelmed, it seemed, by anything and everything. Abby asked questions and made observations every so often. Often enough to sustain the chatter. When she tried to join in, however, Abby closed down with a stony glance that shut Connor up in mid-sentence.

It was early afternoon when Helen realised they were being stalked. They were picking their way through a boulder field at the bottom of a river gorge. It was a path Helen knew well. The routes between several anomalies led through this area. But it was a twisting valley, with plenty of cover. She stopped still trying to pinpoint the source of her unease.

"Move it!" said Lyle, jabbing her in the back with his gun.

"There's something here."

"Yeah! Right. I know all about your tricks."

"Watch me if you like, but keep quiet."

Lyle's eyes narrowed.

"Just listen," said Abby suddenly.

Helen looked over her shoulder at the unexpected source of support. Abby scowled at her. Helen listened. There was something a little behind them and to the left. About the same time she realised this, she heard the sound of a safety-catch being disengaged. Private Lacey had her gun trained in the direction Helen believed the predator to be.

"You have sharp ears," she said quietly.

Lacey's eyes flickered in her direction but she made no other acknowledgment of Helen. "I think there's something over there, sir," she reported.

"Slater, Maitland, guard the prisoner," said Lyle. "Come on, Lacey, let's see what's over there."

Helen found herself dragged down behind a boulder by Slater.

"What about me?" bleated Connor.

"Just keep your head down," grunted Slater.

Slater had taken up position behind the rock and was sighting in the direction of the predator. Abby, meanwhile, crouched down opposite her cradling a tranquilliser pistol. Helen eyed it nervously.

"What sort of dose have you got in there?"

"Large enough."

"That's not reassuring if you're intending to shoot me with it."

"You'd rather Slater shot you?"

Helen glanced up at Slater and his rifle then looked back at Abby.

"You don't run, no one gets shot," said Slater.

There was a loud roaring noise and the sound of gunfire.

"What's happening?" asked Helen. It was frustrating not being able to see. Lyle and Lacey could be making all a complete mess of the situation.

Connor peaked over the rock. "Lyle's gone right. Lacey's gone left," he reported. "It's a Gorgonopsid," he added and made a face. "Already seen lots of those."

He sank back down beside Helen.

"You struck me as a bit more than just a stamp collector," she said. "You've seen a Gorgonopsid before and now you're no longer interested? What sub-species is it, for a start."

Connor went red. "It's not like that," he said.

"Leave him alone," said Abby, protectively.

Helen decided to ignore her. "Take another look, Connor. How big is it? What shape is its jaw? How is it behaving? Does it look frightened? Curious?"

Connor stood up and took a second look. "It's several metres long, maybe four. It looks, ummm, kind of pissed."

Abby stood up. "It's cautious," she said. "Hasn't made up its mind whether we're dangerous or not."

Helen gave her a significant glance.

"Lyle!" shouted Abby. "You might be able to scare it off. Try firing over its head."

Abby, it appeared, was quick enough on the uptake when it was necessary.

There was the sound of more gunfire.

"Go on you big lump!" she heard Lyle call. "Get your ugly arse out of here. We're not worth it."

There was another roar.

"Keep shouting!" called Abby. "Act belligerent!"

"That's easy for you to say," returned Lyle. "Oi! Fuck off!" he added.

"Go on! Go on!" she heard Lacey's voice. There was the sound of more gunfire.

"It's working!" said Connor. "It's turning round."

"Shoo!" came Lacey's voice again amid more shouting from Lyle. It sounded distinctly like the words to one of the more rowdy caving songs.

"There he goes," said Abby.

"Seems I've missed all the excitement," murmured Helen, drily.

Slater hauled her to her feet. "Plenty of ground to cover yet," he said.

* * *

They set up camp by a rocky outcrop with a couple of stunted trees growing from it. Helen recognised it and wondered if the position had been chosen deliberately. Lyle had marched them hard and they had reached there late afternoon before night began to fall. None of the people with her had been in the Permian before but Nick would have made reports, as would Captain Ryan.

Helen sat grumpily on a rock, her hands still cuffed together. Slater built a fire and started cooking a meal, while Lacey and Lyle erected tents. Connor volunteered to help with both but was waved away. He then fished out his laptop and sat, with Abby at his elbow, typing away.

"What are you doing?" Helen asked.

"Adding details to the database," he said. "Anything and everything really. Abby's better at behaviour though."

Abby smiled and dimples appeared on her cheeks. She nudged him with her shoulder. "You don't do so badly."

"You've never asked me any questions," observed Helen.

Abby looked up at her. "Would you answer them?"

Helen schooled herself not to throw back a reply and watched. Abby was more guarded than Connor but it was clear that both were excited and interested in their surroundings, the fauna and the flora. Abby had gathered up a small collection of plants and leaves in little specimen packets and Helen was sure she'd done that on her own initiative, not as a result of some ARC program. She'd even gathered seeds where she could, although it wasn't really the season for it. Now, while the laptop battery lasted they were entering information and discussing hypotheses. `Would you answer them?' Helen pondered Abby's question. The way into the hearts of these two team members was probably by information, but it had to appear to be given freely, without an agenda.

"Grub's up," said Slater.

After they had eaten, Lyle organised them into watches, which didn't include Helen. He gave himself the first watch and Helen observed him moving to slightly higher ground, a little above the camp. She watched him standing on the rocks in the last rays of the setting sun. His head was bowed and she knew he stood at his friend's grave. She kept expecting to see him bend down to brush the earth from the bones, but he didn't. She was sorely tempted to go up there and talk to him but common sense, for once, told her it would only be counter-productive.

* * *

Mid morning saw them approaching the anomaly site. Helen was becoming frustrated. She'd been looking for an opportunity to slip away but, between them, Lyle, Lacey and Slater seemed to manage to continuously have at least two pairs of eyes watching her. Lyle was allowing them to take the walk at a fairly relaxed pace now. He obviously knew, as she did, that the anomaly would be open for another twenty-four hours. Connor and Abby took yet more samples of the soil and the flora. Connor even tried to catch a dragonfly, chasing after it with a butterfly net until Lyle shouted at him to keep close to the group.

"What's that?" asked Lacey.

Helen turned to look where she was pointing. Private Lacey must have sharp eyes as well as ears. Helen could see a hazy smudge on the horizon.

"Dust storm?" hazarded Slater.

Lyle looked around them. "We need to find shelter."

Helen could now feel a faint vibration through her feet. "Stampede," she said.

Lyle marched right up to her placing a gun at her head. "No tricks," he said.

"It's not a trick," said Abby. "She's right."

"How do you know?" asked Lyle.

"I spent a summer working in one of the big game parks in Africa. That's a stampede all right."

Helen couldn't help a smirk at Lyle's expression. That was twice now he'd disbelieved her; twice Abby had backed her up; and twice she'd been proved right.

"Can we outrun them?" asked Connor.

"Not likely," said Slater.

Helen shook her head, catching Abby's eye, who nodded in agreement. Helen looked around them. Every few hundred yards there were sparse trees but none of them looked strong enough to bear much weight and she wouldn't have liked to rely on one in a press of stampeding dinosaurs. In the distance was a rocky outcrop.

"Those rocks," said Helen, "they're the best place. The animals will go round, not over them and they won't be able to knock them over."

Lyle glanced at her and then looked past her to Abby who nodded.

"We need to move fast though," Helen said.

Lyle started them off at a jog, heading up a gentle slope towards the outcrop. Helen cursed the handcuffs as she ran.

"Can we get these off?" she asked.

Lyle snorted. "We reap what we sow."

`No' then.

In spite of herself Helen kept looking back. It was possible to see a brownish smudge on the horizon now. She looked ahead of them. They should be able to reach and climb the outcrop in time. Underfoot the ground had turned to an unpleasant scree that slipped and shifted as they moved. There was a sudden cry and Lyle fell to the ground. The whole party skidded to a halt around him - as if it was going to take five of them to help one man.

"Sir?" asked Lacey.

Lyle didn't move. There was a faint trickle of blood on his forehead where it must have hit a rock.

"Shit!" said Connor. "What do we do now?"

"We'll have to leave him," said Slater.

"No!" said the other three in unison.

"See that tree," said Helen, pointing, unsure exactly why she was doing this. Though there was a certain satisfaction to be had from saving Lyle's life, just because his sense of honour would be affronted. "You and Lacey, take Lyle, get him up the tree, and yourselves. It looks stronger than some of the others and should just about hold the three of you. It's not too far to drag him either." She glanced over her shoulder once more at the stampede. It was probably not too far to drag him.

"What about us?" asked Connor.

"The outcrop. As before."

"But?"

"The tree isn't big enough for all of us. Go! Now!"

Connor and Abby both hesitated a moment looking at her and then they turned to run. Lacey already had an arm under Lyle's shoulder. Slater was looking at Helen suspiciously.

"You too!" said Helen.

"I'm watching you," he said. He grabbed Lyle's other shoulder but walked backwards, gun trained on Helen.

She would dearly have loved to run but the fact remained that the only safe places were the tree and the outcrop. And, to be honest, she was pretty dubious about the tree. She turned and chased after Connor and Abby.

By the time she reached the outcrop, the thundering of feet was loud in her ears. She reached up her hands and cursed. Climbing, even such a small distance, with her hands cuffed was going to be next to impossible. She hooked the chain of the cuffs over a spike of rock and hauled herself up scrabbling for purchase with her feet on the surface below. Then she stopped short, effectively stuck. She was forced to move both hands at once and that would probably cause her to fall backwards. That was the worst of this damn stupid situation. They didn't have the guts to simply kill her but they didn't realise that in this environment handcuffs could so easily be a death sentence.

Selfish, self-centred, arrogant...

Arms reached down and grabbed her. She looked up surprised. Connor was holding one wrist and Abby the other. They both heaved together and Helen found herself lifted onto the top of narrow platform just as the rush of dust and animals swept by below. Connor was peering over the edge at the mass of bodies as soon as she was safe. Helen lay down next to him, fascinated, as always. After a moment she felt Abby on her other side, her shoulders rubbed by those of the two young people.

"Scutosaurus," breathed Connor.

"Herd animals," said Abby. "I've never seen a herd of reptiles before."

Helen gazed at the bony heads and wide backs below her, resisting the temptation to reach down and touch them.

"They must have been attacked by a group of predators."

Connor looked anxiously in the direction the animals had come from. "Something else to worry about," he said.

"Probably not," said Abby. "They'll have picked off the stragglers by now and given up."

"Abby's right," agreed Helen. "I don't think we need to worry."

"They run pretty fast," mused Connor.

"They evolved from the Pareiasaurus," said Helen. "Those had splayed out legs. These are much faster, on their way to the really fast beasts."

When the animals had passed they climbed down from their platform, Helen once again having to rely on help from Connor and Abby. Lacey and Slater were approaching them from the tree. Lyle, conscious now, supported between them.

"Lacey tells me you saved all our hides," he said, when they reached the trio.

Helen shrugged and resisted the temptation to smirk.

Lyle nodded at her. "Thanks."

Helen looked at the faces around her. Slater excepted, there was a look of awkwardness and concern on display. Probably not enough, though, to risk making a run for it. She sighed. "Let's get back to that anomaly shall we."

* * *

Same interrogation room, Lucia opposite her once again shuffling a big stack of papers. Helen found she was rather more nervous than she had been last time. A reaction she filed away for later examination. Lucia left her waiting. Helen stared at the ceiling affecting nonchalance. Suddenly Lucia slammed her pile of papers onto the desk with a loud bang.

"I have here," she said, "the thoughts of one of the government's top profilers." A neatly bound book was picked off the top of the file and dumped loudly on the table. "Personnel files from CMU," a large and scruffy manila folder followed it, "bloody school reports!" a box file full of small stapled booklets "and a host of other crap!" the rest of the pile. "All of which tell me that Helen Cutter is not a team player."

Helen found herself shrinking back in spite of herself. So she controlled the impulse, leaned forward to display plenty of cleavage and leered.

Lucia leaned back, sighed and closed her eyes. "I should have you locked up."

Helen eyed her carefully. The press surrounding Stephen's attempts to lead the anomaly team really had been magnificently disastrous. She now had an inkling why. Lucia didn't need her to lead the anomaly team, she needed her to look good in front of reporters. Bloody survivor bloody chic was probably about to save her neck. It gave Helen an idea how to handle the situation, make this look like some form of capitulation to Lucia's terms. Give her some reason why Helen had run and some reason to suppose she wouldn't do so again.

"I'll make you a deal."

"I hardly think you're in any position to make deals."

"If it's my deal, you can trust me to stick to it."

Lucia opened her eyes. "OK, spit it out."

"We co-opt Clifford. Get Jenny to do it. He's had his pound of flesh at Stephen's expense but I really don't want to be watching my back for him. I'm prepared to deal with the Press, within reason, but there's only so many times I'm going to discuss where I shop with women's magazines. Let Jenny draw up a list and a schedule. If it's reasonable, I'll do it, but after that I get a low profile."

"Go on."

Helen was warming to her theme now. What else might she hypothetically have objected to?

"Keep the Special Forces out of things unless absolutely necessary. And the same for Lester. None of them like me or trust me which makes them a liability. My team, that's Hart, Temple, Maitland and, if necessary, Lewis, handle things our way. I imagine Nick stipulated the same terms."

"I'm beginning to think you are more like him than I had previously given you credit for."

"You know what they say about people being too alike."

"Especially when they are arrogant, stubborn and brilliant."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Keep the press, the military and Lester off my back and I'll handle your anomalies for you. I won't try to escape back in time again and I won't try any more time altering experiments so long as I get regularly briefed on current progress by the Physics team, say once a month."

Lucia looked at her thoughtfully and eyed the pile of papers. "They were all wrong about you, weren't they," she said, thoughtfully. "You've got nothing against teams. Your problem is with authority."

"So give me free rein."

Lucia's eyes narrowed. "This is your last chance. I get the merest inkling you're up to something and you'll be up on a charge of treason. And don't forget I have a copy of your notes."

She stalked from the room, leaving the door unlocked behind her. Helen left it a minute, in order not to appear too eager and then sauntered out. She was surprised to find a welcoming reception, her _team_, like it or not.

"You were trying to get Nick back weren't you," said Abby, standing forward.

Helen cast her eye over the little group. Abby in the front with Connor half a step behind her. Stephen leaning against the wall. Jenny hanging back.

"Something like that."

"Won't work," said Connor. "I've been through the equations with Dave, in Physics. Changing history is really complex."

Helen allowed an eyebrow to twitch.

"We appreciate it, though," said Abby. Connor nodded vigourously and even Stephen gave a slight jerk of the head. Only Jenny made no move of recognition. Helen smiled at them and then turned, slipping one arm through Abby's and the other through Connor's.

"Let's get on with things then," she said, leading them down the corridor. Jenny she could deal with in time. Jenny worked with her head far more than her heart which meant Helen just had to find a sufficiently compelling argument why Jenny should trust her. The really hard work, convincing Abby to trust her, she seemed to have achieved by accident. She'd never have listed almost getting trampled by dinosaurs as a useful manipulative trick before. She wasn't sure she was keen to try it again though.


End file.
